mom of all trades

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Saturday, April 2, 2016

A whiff of petrichor

There is something so incredibly
heady and refreshing about the scent of freshly harvested mint, that makes you
want to close your eyes and let it permeate your senses. It lingers long afterwards,
clinging to the tip of your fingers and wafting past your nose like a sliver of
nostalgia. It comes to me one evening as I was harvesting my crop of mint, that
I was actually seeing instead merely looking. I was beginning to paying attention
to the things around me and the way my senses responded to it.

Gardening demands
your attention, not little-distracted
pieces of it, but being fully present both in body and spirit. It nudges you to
enjoy the process, without the assurance of a happy future. Not all the
saplings we plant or the seeds we sow
grow into healthy plants. Gardening comes with its own set of failures .So then,
we must nurture our happiness by enjoying the process and sprucing it up with
healthy doses of hope and dreams, as it is with life.

Gardening opens up a whole new world of
wonder, which I had been hitherto blind to. The way the texture of the leaves of each plant, differs from the other,
almost as if it were its fingerprints, the bittersweet petrichor that
emanates, as the first drops of water touch the soil, parched from the
scorching summer sun, the taste of the freshly harvested produce; crisp and delicious with undertones of distilled sunshine. If purity had a taste, it
would be this.

Bounty from my terrace garden

Gardening I soon discover,
persuades you albeit in a kindly way, to accept the fact that you have to let
go of things you have been clinging on to. A batch of crop that you nurtured as saplings, protected from pests and weeds
have to be discarded once their yield span is finished, the soil is turned and
new seeds are sown. Letting go of things, whether it is a bad relationship, memories
or simply a bad habit can be excruciatingly painful and difficult. When you are
told to let go and move on, it is akin to being spoken to in a foreign tongue. Nothing
makes sense. It makes you nervous and uncomfortable, the thought of that alien
place, where you no longer will be able to hide in the haze of your sad
memories. So you cling on to the known enemy, wary of the unknown friend.
Perhaps then, letting go is the belief that your life can be turned around,
just like the soil, ready to sow fresh seeds of hopes, dreams and
relationships.

“Only this actual moment is life” - Thich Nhat Hanh

Gardening makes me realize this
every single day. It is like a whiff of
petrichor for my parched soul.

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As the name suggests this mommy tries out all things related to "being mommy" and lives to write about it at well. This blog is about the "spirit" of mother hood, the lighter side of parenting. online kiddie resources and much more... I would love to receive your comments and suggestions!!!!!

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don't even think about it!!!

"Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their body but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,which you cannot visit,not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you...
Kahlil Gibran-The Prophet